


Why Can't You Just Date Me?

by somebodytoldme



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Modern AU, No superheroes, a drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 06:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18404672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somebodytoldme/pseuds/somebodytoldme
Summary: Wade Wilson’s life was a series of gradually bigger and bigger fuck ups. It started off as running away from home in high school.





	Why Can't You Just Date Me?

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw this scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g8Ez6WqWlFk&t=66s  
> From K-drama Romance is a Bonus book randomly - and I couldn't get that line out of my head.
> 
> And then I started writing this. And then I got impatient - just get it done and written so I can have it out of my head.  
> But here is the thing - I didn't really finish it - and if I were to write it properly I would add a lot more details to each section. So this is a very, very rough draft. But I don't know if I have the patience to even write this story (haha). And I sort of wanted to share it anyway.
> 
> So - I hope you enjoy what is here. Sorry it is a mess.

Wade Wilson’s life was a series of gradually bigger and bigger fuck ups. It started off as running away from home in high school, his father was a drunk who only got worse after his mother died of cancer. He met Peter during that time. 

 

Wade used to sleep in the public library. He would hide deep down in the stacks until the lights would turn off, curl up among the smell of musty books - and feel safe. He was on his way out, showing up early to school to use the locker rooms to clean up, when he sees a boy getting hit by two much larger boys just outside. Wade had issues, still does, but more anger at the time than he does now. 

 

He sees red. Pulls one off by the back of the shirt, and he punches. It is a satisfying crunch, he can hear them swearing, running off after that. The boy is still laying on the sidewalk, eye swelling and lip bleeding. Wade turns to offer him a hand up, he ignores it and gets up on his own. Good eye glaring, “Mind your own business.”

 

\---

 

Weeks pass, he can’t get that image out of his head. And then he sees him again, hunched over a book in the stacks. Wade keeps his distance at first. Just watches him come in each day, find a different book, and hunker down. 

 

Eventually curiosity gets the better of him. The boy is looking for a new book to reading, scanning the self, as Wade hesitantly approaches. He doesn’t look from the shelf as he stops Wade in his tracks, “What do you want?”

 

What  _ did _ he want? He didn’t know. He was just curious about him. Why he was getting beat up outside and didn’t want help? Why he was here so often like Wade? Instead Wade blurts out, “I was wondering if you could recommend me something, to, uh, read?”

 

He doesn’t respond. Wade waits, heart fluttering awkwardly, wondering if maybe this is his cue to kindly  _ fuck off _ . And after a good minute, he is about to do just that, crawl back into his own little corner.. When a book is thrust in his direction. “What’s- oh, oh.” Wade pauses, and carefully takes the book -  _ The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe _ . The boy turns to walk away. “Thank, thank you! I’ll let you know how I like it!” Wade calls after, flustered.

 

\---

 

Wade does just that. And the boy thrusts another book in his direction. It goes on for a while. Every few days he’d get a new book, force himself to read it as fast as possible so he could have an excuse to bother the boy again. So, he could tell him all that he hated and loved about the book. 

 

Teachers and students at his school took notice. Mentioning in passing, how odd it was that a kid who daydreamed and mostly napped through the majority of his high school career was now buried deep in a book everyday. 

 

But that was how he learned more about him. Slowly their conversations steered more into each other than just the books they read. His name was Peter Parker. He was just a few years younger than Wade. He… he also had a lot of anger. Like Wade. His parents disappeared, abandoned him, left him with just Uncle and Aunt. They were good people though. They were a lot of like. 

 

They sat side by side, in the stacks, reading. Peter would joke, in passing, how it was like Wade practically lived here. And he’d cackle because  _ yes _ \- he did live here. But he could never let Peter know. Because he didn’t want pity. He supposed that was something they both shared in common.

 

\---

 

He joined the military after high school. Peter had tried to encourage him to apply to colleges. But it was already too late, and he couldn’t see himself going to  _ college _ . He wasn’t the type. His father was a military man… Before.

 

He joked with Peter,  _ Which country should I serve? My mom is Canadian, you see, my dad is American… I have dual citizenship, aren’t you jealous?  _ Though, he’s lived the majority of his life here, in New York - the happier memories are in Canada. He figures he’ll keep it that way. 

 

He’s leaving for boot-camp. All he has to leave behind is Peter, but somehow that itself is hard. He is sixteen now, a junior in high school, he’s had a growth spurt that summer. He’s finally coming into his own. They’re at the bus station because Peter insisted on seeing him off. 

 

He reaches over and ruffles his hair because he was growing it out, it was longer, messier - Wade made it worse. Peter squirms, but doesn’t really fight, big smile on his face.  _ Wow _ , Wade thinks, if he ever had a little brother… This is what it would feel like. He lets go, heart heavy in his throat, suddenly he doesn’t want to leave. 

 

A heavy silence - a pause - Peter stiffly passes him a gift bag. It is heavy. Wade doesn’t need to look in to know it is a stack of books. His throat feels so tight, he can barely breath. “Thank you…” He chokes out.

 

“I’ll write.”

 

Wade nods.  _ Breathes _ . Forces a smile on his face, and gives Peter a thumbs up. “I’ll be expecting to hear all about your girlfriend.”

 

“Girlfriend-?”

 

Wade laughs, and pauses as it is announced boarding is about to proceed.

 

\---

 

He got deployed. It is all a blur now. But it was a grueling four years. Relief came in the form of handwritten letters. 

 

There was a bad job. He got caught up by a frag grenade. It wasn’t good. 

 

Gained a limp and a body and face full of scars. Came back a young, crippled vet. 

 

\---

 

Peter was away in college when he got back. Wade didn’t want him to worry. So, he didn’t say anything. He figured he write him when the semester was over. But after waiting it was harder. Harder to say what happened to him, harder to face him. So, he just stopped writing.

 

\---

 

Wade met a girl. Fell in love with a girl. Asked to marry the girl.

 

He knew Peter had to be a part of it - the wedding. So, after several years, he finally sat down to write him properly.  _ Hi, I’m disfigured but I managed to meet someone I like, who is actually willing to look at my face - so I’m getting married. _

 

\---

 

Wade is nervous. They were doing a small ceremony. Nothing too formal. They didn’t care for that stuff. He went to the bathroom to wash his face, avoiding looking the mirror with great practice. 

 

There was a knock on the door. “Um, Wade? Is that you? Somebody - well, they told me you’d be here? The ceremony is about to start?”

 

That voice, he’d know that voice anywhere. He hasn’t heard it in years.  _ Peter _ . He pauses. He’s afraid. He is afraid of what Peter will see when he opens the door, what he will think… 

  
“Wade?”

 

But he has too. He pulls the door open. And Peter is standing there. He’s not wearing his glasses - is the first thing that Wade thinks. He’s all grown up, is the second thing he thinks. Looking at the thin, well dressed man in front of him. Wade is speechless - so much he misses Peter’s reaction to him. Perhaps, that is for the better. He avoids eye contact. 

 

“You look good,” Peter says, voice so soft, sincere, Wade’s heart aches. Because he knows it is a lie. He is a haunting sight. But Peter when reaches out and smooths his tie, Wade finally looks up. He searches, searches for disgust, horror, pity… Doesn’t find any of it. He relaxes.

 

“You do too,” Wade finally says. And Peter looks up, brown eyes bright - was he -  _ no? _

 

“I got-”

 

“-Wade! Where are you!”

 

“-Ah-”  _ Shit, shit _ , he was supposed to be out there ten minutes ago. 

 

Peter smiles, “Go on, I’ll talk to you after.”

 

\---

 

The wedding is lovely. The reception is nice. Even though stopping to talk to ever person, although the wedding was small, was a lot for him. Social anxiety - PTSD, a list of issues. He pushed it back, until he stumbled before Peter after a few too many glasses of champagne.

 

“Peter!” He grinned as the boy, man, boy-man turned about.

 

Peter smiled, reserved, “Hey, congratulations Wade.” He pauses, “hang on- one second.” Wade watches as he runs back to his table, carrying back a gift bag a little breathless. “I know you guys said no gifts, but it just... It is nothing big.”

 

Before Wade takes it, he knows that is a book. He digs into the bag, excited about what it could possibly be. A new adventure? Something else to write Peter about… He pulls out a familiar cover.  _ The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.  _ His throat feels tight again. There is familiar fold in the left corner of the soft cover. He flips it open, to confirm his suspicions, that it was indeed that same copy. The date he took it out punched in red ink. He’s breathless. “Thank… Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome.” Peter smiles. It is nice. So, nice, to have him back in his life again. “I’d like you to meet somebody…” Peter turns about, gestures for a handsome man in a black tux to join them, “Um, Wade, this is… This is…”

 

The man comes up to Peter’s side, wrapping an arm confidently around his waist. Bright smile on a perfect face that Wade could envy. He did envy. “Harry Osborn, Peter’s boyfriend.”

 

He can tell Peter is nervous. Like Wade would care. He doesn’t. Wade has never cared for labels - he likes guys, girls, it doesn’t matter. Never did. He’s been with both. He supposes it is something he’ll have to explain to Peter later. To comfort him, however, he reaches out to confidently shake Harry’s hand, “Nice to meet you.”

 

\---

 

The latest, and greatest, fuck up - was the divorce. She was a lovely person, she really was. But she hadn’t been prepared for how fucked up Wade was. Wade wasn’t prepared for how fucked up Wade was. And she wanted kids. He couldn’t bring himself to have kids. He wasn’t well enough to have kids. He was afraid… Afraid of being like his father.

 

So there is the divorce. He moves out, even though he doesn’t have anywhere to go - he doesn’t want to burden her more. He’s done enough. He’s staying at a shit apartment. Working at a shitty bar with seedy people at night because nobody really wants to hire a scary looking cripple. Vet or not. 

 

\---

 

It is a particularly bad night, when he runs into Peter again. There was a fight at the bar. The cops showed up. Wade had tried to stop some of the fighting, and a beer bottle had shattered in his hand. He had it wrapped up a bar towel, headed back home to patch it up, when they meet.

 

“Wade?” Peter stops him.

 

Proceeds to force him to go to the hospital. And they sit there and talk. One of the nurses blush, and ask Peter for his autograph. He’s a famous author now, Wade owned all his books and every article he was ever in. But he still pretended not to know, as Peter told him all about it.

 

\---

 

They fall back into this familiar pattern. Meeting out at a coffee shop in the morning. Talking excitedly about books. About Peter’s books. About upcoming projects. It is nice. To escape his problems for a while, like hiding the library stacks again. 

 

\---

Months pass, peacefully. Until one day Peter shows up on the doorstep of his shit-hole apartment. One, Wade was carefully avoiding telling him about. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Wade shifts because he wasn’t sure… Pride? Fear of pity? But then, Peter is one of the few people that doesn’t ever look at him as pitiful. “How…?”   
  


“I saw Vanessa.”

 

“Oh.”

 

\---

 

Peter insists he moves in with him. Says his apartment is too big as it is. Wade knows he should try to refuse him more, but he is tired… And it is nice. Nice to be around him all the time. Nice to have access to his large collection of books that Wade has to catch up on. Nice to… to lean on somebody for a little while. Just a little while.

 

He cleans, buys the groceries, cooks - though Peter never asked. He also will not take any money for rent, so Wade does what he can to help.

 

He sees a magazine,  _ top bachelors _ , Peter Parker’s name is on it. And feels a little guilty. A gross old, man currently staying at the bachelors pad. He mentions it to Peter - that he could leave, it would make it easier for him to date. Peter refuses, insists he stay. Says “ _ it doesn’t matter, none of it is really serious anyway _ .” Wade wants to ask whatever happened to Harry, but he knows it isn’t his place. Perhaps Peter will tell him, given time.

 

\---

 

One rainy afternoon, Wade was feeling particularly nostalgic. Peter had a meeting with his editors, so he was stuck in the house all day alone. Restless, he grabbed his coat and headed out for a walk. His feet took him to a familiar building. Hand brushing against familiar wood, welcomed by the scent of old books. 

  
It felt like home.

 

“I’m sorry sir, the computer systems are down… I don’t know where -”

 

Wade listened in, as a stressed man insisted he need a copy if  _ Dracula _ . If he remembered correctly… He wandered past, curious to test his memory, and indeed, on the shelf it was. He headed back downstairs, approaching with the book outstretched - “Is this what you were looking for?”

 

\---

 

“So, you got a job at the library?” Peter said softly, “It makes sense, you did practically live there.”   
  
Wade can tell he is pleased as he is. He was giddy with it. He couldn’t stop humming while he was making dinner. So much so, that Peter asked several times what happened.

 

Wade nodded, happily grinning with a mouthful of spaghetti.

 

\---

 

Dracula, Wade has jokingly nicknamed him, kept showing up to the library. Wade didn’t think much of it at first, as he revealed he was a graduate student working his thesis. It made sense he would need to be there a lot. But spent half the time following Wade through the stacks talking.

 

Eventually, he asked Wade on a date. A date. A  _ date _ .

 

\---

 

“What are you doing?” Peter asked, bemused, leaning against the doorframe to Wade’s room.

 

Wade’s entire wardrobe was on the floor in a pile, as he tried on every shirt to find something suitable. He hadn’t been on date in a long time. “I’ve got a date.”

 

Peter straightened up, “A date? With who?”

 

“Dracula - uh, I mean that guy that always comes to the library… Can you believe it?”

 

“No- I mean, nice… Just be careful.”

 

He chuckled, “I’m sure I could take him, if it comes to it.” He held up a shirt, “How does this one look?” But Peter wasn’t paying attention, he was frowning at the floorboards. “Peter? Did something happen at work?” 

 

He shook his head quickly, “Ah, no. Just tired… Going to bed. Have fun?”

 

\---

 

The date went well. So, they went on another. And another. 

 

It was nice to be dating someone again. To have someone interested in him. That someone found him attractive. And that person was great themselves…

 

But it wasn’t really great. Their chemistry was off. Wade didn’t feel entirely like himself when they were together. It wouldn’t work. But he would be sad to end it too. He’d still mourn the fun it was, to date someone again.

 

\---

 

“Why can’t you just date me?”

 

Peter says it so casual-like, so calmly from across the table, that Wade has to be hearing things. He had mentioned over dinner how he had broken things off -  but was sad not to be dating anymore. And Peter is just sitting there. Waiting - for a response... response…  _ Respond idiot. _

 

“W-What?” 

 

Peter set down his fork, and leaned forward on the table. Wade leaned back in his chair in response, suddenly feeling incredibly itchy under his heavy gaze. “Why can’t you just date me?”


End file.
